Renaissance
by Poseida Lunar
Summary: Draco posed nude for a painting that Harry was doing. Meanwhile, a bunch of other stuff happened in the world outside. Random, HPDM.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the Harry Potter universe. All belongs to Lady Rowling, who owns and rules Harry Potter. I am, however, forming a plan to kidnap Draco from her. :P

This was suppose to be funny, but I think I failed big time. This is also edited by me, but since I'm not in focus today, I'm bound to miss mistakes. Tell me if you see any, okie-dokie?

* * *

"Are you done yet?"

Harry Potter snapped out of his daydreaming and looked up, startled, into the face of one nude and irritated Draco Malfoy, who had his head propped against his left shoulder, laying on his back. The Man-Who-Lived-Twice grinned at the sight in front of him and shifted the position of the palette around his sore thumb. He shook his head no, still unable to take his eyes off the naked body.

Draco Malfoy scowled.

The canvas was still blank in front of Harry. The paint brush was still in the water-filled cup. It hadn't even been five minutes before he'd set these equipment up. He hadn't even started.

"No," he answered.

"Well," Draco said. "Hurry up, what are you waiting for?"

* * *

George Weasley wiggled his ears at the little girl in blue robe, arching his head from left to right as he did so like a cobra dancing to music. He had his wand out, and was waving it from right to left, making nonsense mumbling and noises. The little girl squealed and giggled as he suddenly reached from behind her head and produced out a white chocolate frogs, then presented it to her bowing his head low as if he was approaching a queen. The other children burst into cheers.

"Ready sidekicks?!" he roared, lifting her up and placing her on his shoulders. They cheered even louder.

By his left, the two performers in faery costumes did their dance, got out scissors, and cut the golden ribbon that sealed the doorway. The children ran in with delight, filling his new shop.

Pretty soon, everything will be sold. He smiled, and congratulated himself in silence, considering himself a job well done.

The beautiful transparent tiles that covered the floor made it seemed like everyone was walking on air. He heard screams of fear at first, then happiness as the little kids jumped up and down, knowing that they wouldn't suddenly fall into space. Two aisles down, three older, presumably Hogwarts students, was examining his Nonverus wands with fascination.

"Do you think he'd be proud?" Ginny whispered, gazing at all this with awe as well. Deep in her eyes, however, were memories. George knew instantly that she was talking about Fred, and he turned around and shrugged. She gave him a look, as if offended.

Why was she offended anyway? Fred was his twin, not hers. He whistled the Hotty Potty tune (yes, it was Harry Potter's theme song) and turned away as she adjusted her faery costume. Suddenly, he heard a wince from her. "What the-" The sour face immediately turned into a full glare.

George punched the air victoriously and stuck out his tongue at his little sister when she yelped in mid-glare. Childish, he knew. But who would care?

"You fucking bast- AH!!!"

That was the scream of pain when a wart exploded on someone's butt cheek without warning.

* * *

Malfoys were not patient people. They were not the type of people who would wait for something they wanted to get done. They would bribe, lie, and even go as far as throwing public tantrums if it meant getting something they desired.

Harry Potter, being his lover of four years, should know that by now.

"Are you done yet?!" Draco demanded. His wrist was getting quite sore from being in this position for so long.

His lover looked over the canvas and shook his head once more.

Damn.

* * *

The SPEW badges pinned on the robes of the crowd glimmered with such pride in the sunlight that they brought tears to her eyes. Hermione Weasley stepped into the platform, receiving instant roar of approval from her followers. The House Elves Representative (HER), Dobby, stood by her side in his socks-covered glory and bowed as well. The crowd responded back with louder roars.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to this event." Before the sentence was over, they burst into applause again.

The president of SPEW looked down that the audience, happiness and gratitude swelled her heart at the sight of so many people supporting freedom. The hope was enough to stop her breathing; if she die right now, she would died, never regretting. "Thank you all, thank you so much." Her voice was weak already.

"Thank you all," was all she managed to get out of herself before crying. The speech will have to wait, for now, they will celebrate for their victory instead.

Yesterday afternoon, the Ministry passed the House Elf Slavery Abolishment law. All were free.

All were free.

"Hippos!" Dobby screamed randomly.

* * *

"You know, I wonder how is Hermione doing right now at her Victory party..." Harry mused, stopping in the middle of another brush stroke. His left hand wistfully stroke an invisible beard on his chin, his eyes narrowed as he submerged into thoughts. Draco Malfoy wanted to take off his shoe and threw it at The-Man-Who-Lived-Twice.

"Harry," he whined instead. "I've been like this for an hour already. Are you blanking done or not!"

His boyfriend tilted his head and let out a long hum, and then a sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with saying the word 'fuck', love," he started with a teasing smile. "It's just a word like any other words. Verb, to fuck; I fuck, you fuck, he fucks, we fuck, you fuck, they fuck. Fuck, noun, the act of having sexual intercourse, a slang word for the idiom, to have sex . Other idioms, expressions and usages include 'what the fuck?', 'are/is you/they/he/she fucking kidding me?', 'I don't give a fuck', 'get the fuck out of here', 'don't fuck with me', 'that's fucked up!'-"

Draco rolled his eyes. "For the sake of fuck, shut the fuck up!"

"That's another two. Good job!"

* * *

Head Auror Weasley's footsteps were what one would describe as "swaggerish". Yes, it wasn't a word, but it will soon be.

"Jillie, my coffee and my toffee cake?" he bossed. His new secretary handed him his snack. "Romulus, the paperworks will be put on my desk. Be sure to arrange everything in alphabetical order."

"Yes sir."

Ten minutes after he digested his treats, Ronald Billius Weasley arrived at his seat behind the desk. He activated the wind charm behind his back so as to make his robe bellow as he began to sit; he finally learned how Snape did it. The proud Head descended on his throne, a smug look pasted on his face. Jillie brought up another serving of coffee and toffee cake, setting it right by his right hand. Romulus awaited by his side.

He loved this promotion. Never in his life had he felt more triumphant, being the top dog of this Department. He'd gotten his job after Harry quit. Stupid Harry, but he did it, Ron convinced himself, for the better of society. He smiled at himself at the hypothesis.

"Where's my foot massager!?"

There was awkward silence.

* * *

Harry stuck out his tongue just millimeters out between his lips and examined at his work thoughtfully. The single stroke of paint stood out from its surrounding white like an exotic rose from a field of plain, white daisies. It looked very good, the first thing he'd done in the time span of two hours. This single brush stroke had taken hours of thinking and inner debating for him, and it finally made onto the canvas.

It really looked good.

He looked back and forth from the naked Draco to the canvas.

"Are you done or not? It's been hours." his boyfriend whined again.

Harry picked up his brush. "Do not rush an artist."

* * *

"And therefore, that is why the Wakawakas should be classified as a magical specie. They may look like normal squirrels and may make the same sound, but by the distinctive black circle around their anal area set them apart from their non-magical cousin. In conclusion, I strongly support the appearance of the Wakawaka in the next edition of _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them_."

They all gave her looks that could either be identified as cluelessness or skepticism.

Of course, since she had explained the existence of the Wakawakas so clearly, there couldn't be any questions that still dwells in minds, unless they didn't know English, which she highly doubt. Their cluelessness must be the confusion as to what marking she was talking about. She wondered why nobody ever investigate into everyday Muggles creatures. Poor them, half of them were unfit for this Editorial team.

Luna Lovegood shook her head and sighed a drastic sigh, hoping to enforce her disappointment. She then turned around and produced out from her briefcase, a caged Wakawaka. It jumped all around its jail house, clutching a single nut in its little paws possessively, screeching with fear. Ever so often, its eyes would flash red. She shivered, already feeling the magic being radiated off this magical creature's body.

Everybody blinked again, this time some with cluelessness and a few either with bewilderment or mockery.

She chose bewilderment. They must be fascinated by this wonderful, newly discovered creature.

"I will now hold this Wakawaka by its tail upside-down and show you its anal area to prove my argument," she said calmly, ready to unlock the cage. "And of course, I will be expecting a well-written section on it in the next _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ edition-"

"Ms. Lovegood, Ms. Lovegood," the head of the team spoke up. Luna stared at him.

"Yes Dean?" she asked.

Dean Thomas coughed twice and cleared his throat. She wondered if he was sick. "I- uh, I don't think that we need to see this-"

"Why, of course we do. This concerns our children's very education. They must learn about the Wakawaka, it's a creature of magic-"

"Ms. Lovegood," Dean interrupted again, his palm meeting his head. "We will deliver it to the Creature Inspection Center. I'm sure they will prove your point right. We all appreciate your share very much, right?" He motion to the whole team. "Right?" They all nodded with agreement and praised her. Luna smiled.

"I am looking forward to the next edition, Dean. Thank you all," she said, eyes started to water with tears.

Dean bite his lips. "Ms. Lovegood, it can never be in children's textbook, please understand that. We are not willing to be castigated by angry mobs of parents because we stated that there's a marking on an animal's butt. No 'butt', no 'anal'. No."

* * *

_Oh, my love, whence dost thou hasten to? Thy morning shine bestow upon me no longer. Thy presence abandonst me and thy rays shonest on me no longer. Though I trieth to forgeth abouth you- ...Shakespeare English is a drag. _

Draco remembered the enthusiasm of his mother on her thirtieth birthday, where she received _The Shakespeare Collection._ That night, she kept him up till four in the morning, reading _Romeo and Juliet_ to him. Draco found it very weird, since the plays were all about Muggles, then Narcissa proceeded to explain that Shakespeare was actually a born Squib whose magic manifested at the age of twenty.

"Why do you think Muggles have so little information on him? He's with us!" she said proudly. "And such a wonderful playwright, using our beautiful language in such elegant way. I remembered back when I was your age your grandma would read a passage of one of his plays to me every night." And then she proceed to read some more.

Draco hated Shakespeare ever since then.

"Are you done yet?!" he snarled at Harry, growing rather bored.

"Why must thou be so impatient!?"

* * *

Molly Weasley dried her eyes as she stared at her only daughter who was at the moment, walking down that blue isle in front of the Majick Moon in her white gown. Her red hair was plain but lush, the deep red ruby around her neck somehow brought out her beautiful brown eyes and furtherer beautified her long eyelashes.

Ginny Weasley had never looked so gorgeous in her life. Standing by her daughter's side was Terry Boot, the handsome man smiling, patting her back. On the other side was Lavender Brown, dressing in a red gown and pearl necklace. Terry arrived first at their table and said an awkward hello before sitting down.

Molly looked up and cried into her handkerchief as Ginny and Lavender followed right after.

Arthur looked at the three of them sadly, tears rolling down his slightly wrinkled old cheeks.

"Well, mother..." Ginny began, taking a deep breath. "I'm so sorry."

She only sobbed harder.

"I guess I might as well say it." _No, no! I don't want to hear it!_ the mother screamed within her own mind. "I know I've been a disappointment to you all along, and I know how much of a shock this will be if I had told you before. I'm just so sorry that you have to find out the way you did."

"Oh stop!" Molly cried out loud, making half of the people in the restaurant to look over at them.

Ginny looked at her for a moment, then turned to Terry, who motioned for her to go on. _Your mother needs to see this,_ his movement told her.

She sighed, hoped for the best, and kissed Lavender.

"Oh the grandchildren I've dreamt of! Oh my poor grandchildren!"

* * *

"Are you done?... Are you done?... Are you done? Are you done? Are you done? Are you done?... Are you done? Are you-"

"NO!!!"

* * *

Neville Longbottom smoothed out the tablecloth of table number four and adjusted the Twitleaf pots. Over at table number eight, a fire-breathing Crifloris shot a deep red flame out of its "mouth" up two feet in the air.

Professor Longbottom of Herbology looked at it with something close to contentment, not thinking at all about his bald spot, which he had gotten after catching his hair on fire. The Crifloris had taken him ages to breed, and here it was, well into its adulthood and growing. The harmless-looking poisonous flower looked like little white angels, glaring up at the sun. The green, sparkling leaves shone with brilliance under the weak light.

"...Professor?"

He jumped.

His third year class snickered behind their hands. Longbottom smiled back. The kids were always annoying, but he loved teaching them. Unlike most people, kids were willing to learn. He looked at all of them in wonder, musing silently to himself about his height and size when he was in third year. They all looked so... tiny. Like midgets. Had he really been like that?

Sighing, he stared off into the air at the comparison.

A student screamed as the Crifloris caught her hair on fire.

* * *

"It's done."

The announce had Draco shouting for joy as Harry put down his paint brush and gazed at his newly finished art with satisfaction. The Malfoy, however, couldn't wait to see the work. He was sure it would be glorious, he was sure it'd be done with perfection, just like Harry had promised. He was sure it'd be-

"That's not me!" The blond's upturned lips went upside down.

A frown.

An escape of giggle.

"You were suppose to paint a portrait of me!" he finally screamed. "What happened to my portrait? This is no time for pranking, the portrait is suppose to be in our bedroom so you can wank off while watching me when I go on that business trip next week, you bastard!" Draco's face was beyond red.

"But I don't want you to go," Harry cajoled, warping a pair of arms around his boyfriend's waist, nuzzling his neck. "Wanking wouldn't be enough."

"Why didn't you just take a fucking picture then? That's what I told you to do in the first place!"

"Oh," Harry said, shrugging innocently. "I just want to play with paint."

Draco was all but about to explode by then. He stared at the wasted canvas with anger, at the wasted paint. Someone was going to pay for this BIG! "Don't be mad," the Potter cooed. "Come on, I'll make it up for you."

He seethed in response. "You're the worst artist in the whole entire world, bloody ponce," Draco snarled as Harry kissed him on side of his mouth, slowly moving down towards the neck. Instead of moaning, the blond hissed, trying to sound mad. "If you want to play with the paint, then at least do something meaningful. What is this bloody shit you did?! It's … it's just gold paint!"

Harry stopped and looked up, frowning. "I think I did pretty good."

"It's pure gold!"

"Obviously."

But before Draco could say more, a pair of lips covered his, consuming the blond into a kiss.

_Because it's injustice,_ Harry thought to himself. _For the world to keep a hot piece of arse away from me for two weeks. _And off to the bedroom they went.

The layer of gold paint covering the canvas remained wet.


End file.
